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Summary:

Mu Qing could count on one hand the number of unmated alphas that he encountered on a regular basis, and even fewer that he could tolerate for any length of time. Someone within close proximity, and not a stranger. Feng Xin.

"I refuse–

Xianle has harsh restrictions for omegas. When Mu Qing unexpectedly presents as one, the only way he can save his position as the Crown Prince's Steward is by mating an alpha.

Notes:

Please note the tags, though the aphrodisiac isn't actually used. Mildly dubious consent due to the nature of the mating.

My first Fengqing AND omegaverse fic!!

This is for @thoughts70749 who requested: "Omegaverse FengQing - Xianle has harsh restrictions for omegas, and once Mu Qing presents as one, the only way he can possibly save his position as the Crown Prince's Steward is by mating with his Body Guard Feng Xin. So he finds an aphrodisiac and invites Feng Xin to join him for some wine."

I hope you like this, I had a great time writing it!

Thank you to my amazing beta, and close friend, Heartbeat_Ghost , please check out their amazing Fengqing fics!

You can find me on Twitter or BlueSky

Work Text:

From the time he could think for himself, Mu Qing knew that his presentation would determine his worth within the kingdom of Xianle. Being born a beta granted a person all the freedoms of the world. An alpha need only be locked away for their ruts. But being an omega lost a person their freedoms: kept in a gilded cage until mated with another.

He had expected to present as a beta. It was the entire reason he went into service for the royal family. It was a safe position that would grant him and his family prosperity, security and a regular income. 

At fifteen, his father sinned and was put to death. At sixteen his mother died, sick and unable to get over her heartbreak.

It'd just been the three of them; the Crown Prince Xie Lian, his bodyguard Feng Xin and himself, Mu Qing the attendant. They didn't speak of Mu Qing’s family, continuing their duties until three more summers passed in relative peace.

At nineteen, Mu Qing still hadn’t presented, but saw no issue with it: being a beta was just freedom with another name. He didn’t need the label.

Everything changed when he woke to the sheets of his bed soaked through to the mattress and a growing itch of something between his legs. He panicked, tore the sheets away and shoved them into a disused chest that gathered dust under the bed. No. No. No. No. Impossible. He couldn’t be that. He should be a beta.

He had to hide it — his shame — though that would only work for so long; he needed to talk to someone, to find a solution. 

Mu Qing had been a good student, learning in earnest during the lessons of his boyhood and the long, dull lectures given to those that entered into service with the royal family. He had been taught that life as an omega was hard, inflexible, and not something he wanted. He needed to talk to Xie Lian: the only person who might have a solution.

He yanked open his wardrobe, picked out the first set of clean robes and pulled them on without any of his usual pride in his appearance. Though freshly laundered, the fabric felt horrid against his clammy skin. He cursed, wanting to rip the robes right back off, and moved to sit at the writing desk that occupied one corner of the room. The reflection looking back at him left a lot to be desired: the skin under his eyes created dark circles and a sheen of sweat formed across his brow; the tell-tale sign of his first impending heat. Mu Qing frowned, unable to look at his dishevelled appearance any longer, and picked up a jade comb to detangle the crow’s nest atop his head and pulled it up into his usual ponytail. 

He strode with purpose down the guard-lined corridors. The closer he got to Xie Lian’s chambers, the heavier the protection. No one made to stop his entry, knowing they’d just suffer his scorn, but it took all the grace Mu Qing could muster to walk with his chin held high and ignore the twitching noses and curious gazes that followed him to the door. He knocked.

“Come in, Mu Qing,” a kind voice called.

He pushed open the door and slipped inside, clicking it shut and locking it behind him. Xie Lian, the Crown Prince of Xianle was truly a sight for sore eyes. The Prince looked at him with concern and pitiful understanding in his eyes. “You’ve presented.”

“Yeah, no shit.” 

Xie Lian wasn’t alarmed by the outburst. Mu Qing clenched his fists until his nails pressed crescent moons into his palms. He took one deep breath, exhaled loudly and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“The men in your family have always presented as beta, correct? And yet-” he closed the distance between them, and leaned in, “-you have just presented as an omega. Your heat will be upon you soon.”

“That’s why I’ve come to see you—there has to be something that can be done. I-I cannot change it, but perhaps to hide it?”

“I’m afraid th-”

Mu Qing interrupted. “I cannot live like an omega, cooped up-”

A knock interrupted, anchoring him in place. Neither he nor Xie Lian moved to answer the door. The second knock was heavier, more urgent. When, for a second time, it was not opened, an angry voice called from behind the door.

“Your Highness, we demand you unlock this door. The rules of the council exist for a reason. We know that your steward has presented. It will be better for everyone if you let us in.”

They didn’t move. Mu Qing stared at Xie Lian helplessly, pleading with his eyes.

“If you let us in now, everyone will be treated with dignity.”

The bitter taste of reality nipped at Mu Qing’s heels. Left with no other option, Xie Lian stepped around Mu Qing, shielding him from prying eyes, and opened the door.

“Always so dramatic.” Xie Lian muttered under his breath.

Two of the King’s advisors crowded the doorframe, rounded off by three guards in full plate and armed with swords, far too much for one teenaged omega. He noted that the group consisted of a known beta and omega, one corner of his lip tugged into a wry half-smile. 

“Come,” The man in the centre implored, who Mu Qing recognised as Peng Yuan, tall with a moustache the envy of many. 

He huffed, squeezed Xie Lian’s shoulder in appreciation for his attempt at protection and stepped around to face the advisors. “And here I am, seemingly such a threat to the peace of the palace. I will go,” Mu Qing mocked, raising his hands in surrender. Peng Yuan didn’t look amused, instead dismissing the guards and turning to lead them to the Council chambers.

“Let me come with you-”

“No, Your Highness, we shall speak with Mu Qing alone. Do not concern yourself about such trivial matters.”

Xie Lian flashed an apologetic smile. Mu Qing shook his head but appreciated the effort all the same. He knew the Prince could do little to change the situation; his word couldn’t change a ladder of hierarchy so ingrained that it hadn’t changed for generations. As much as he had hoped for a way to change his fate, there were no other options open to him: to be mated or to leave the Royal Household.

His silent entourage led him down the myriad side corridors to where the council held their power, having an unmated omega as his attendant would stain His Highness’s reputation; the fewer people who knew, the better. When the group reached their destination, the door opened and Mu Qing paused at the sight before him. It wasn’t a place he’d seen before; even as Xie Lian’s steward, these chambers had been off limits. The room was spacious, with high, vaulted ceilings that made it seem so much bigger and Mu Qing so much smaller. Banners in the royal colours hung from the ceiling at uniform distances apart and a large, long oak table ran the length of the hall. In a high-backed chair, at the far end, sat a person he didn’t recognise. 

“Hurry and take a seat.” Peng Yuan turned, leaving the room before Mu Qing could object, the door locking with a click behind him. His attention turned back to the man staring back at him, who sat with a straight back and a bearded chin resting on steepled hands.

“My apologies for the…warm welcome. Peng Yuan knows how to scare people into obedience.” The stranger’s voice was light and carefree. “I am Yang Zhengsheng, speaker for the Royal Council and overseer of those in service. Please, sit, we have much to discuss.”

A glance around the room revealed no opportunity for escape. Though, what escape was there really? An unmated omega suffering heats outside the relative safety of the palace would be at risk of a worse fate. Mu Qing strode to the chair next to Yang Zhengsheng, pulled it out, and sat.

“We received word that you’ve presented. When you came into the service of the palace we assumed you had already presented as a beta. However, as an omega, you cannot remain here as you are.”

Too many words for being told he was being relieved of his service. Mu Qing didn’t know what to do. He was destined to be an unmated omega in the outside world.

“However, there is one way you can remain.” He stared at Yang Zhengsheng, who continued, “We appreciate your many years of loyal service to His Royal Highness. It would be a great loss to us to lose someone of your calibre.”

“...What do I need to do?”

“Mate an alpha.”

Mu Qing swore and slammed his fist onto the table, the sound echoing across the room. He’d regret that later, the throbbing already beginning at his knuckles. It’d been a meaningless endeavour to hold out even the smallest hope of another solution. It came down to allowing himself to be claimed by some asshole alpha with dreams of a submissive little omega who’d lay under them in the bed and mew sweetly. In short, the opposite of Mu Qing.

He pushed down the anger, swallowed, and exhaled loudly. “...And who exactly do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Yang Zhengsheng stroked his beard in thought, “we have discussed that, at length. It would need to be someone who can be close by in times of… need. And not entirely a stranger to you.”

Mu Qing could count on one hand the number of unmated alphas that he encountered on a regular basis, and even fewer that he could tolerate for any length of time. Someone within close proximity, and not a stranger. Feng Xin.

I refuse–

“Then you have to leave within the next twelve hours. You will be given a guard and safe passage to the city, from there you must find your own way. Good day, Mu Qing. And thank you for your years of service, truly.” Yang Zhengsheng pushed away from the table and rose to leave.

I don’t want to go.

“...Wait, I’ll do it.” He admitted defeat.

“A most sensible choice. You have three days. He swept from the room, leaving Mu Qing alone.

The person he spent the most time with, outside of Dianxia, was his bodyguard, Feng Xin. The loud-mouthed brute of a man enjoyed winding him up, they argued every time they met, prodding at each other’s patience and boundaries until one or the other snapped. On the other hand, he couldn’t deny that Feng Xin was Xie Lian’s most reliable guard and friend, having known each other since childhood. Mu Qing was the last to join the trio, an invader in their peace.

He slumped in the chair, pushing shaking digits through the damp strands of hair that framed his pale face. Feng Xin would never agree to fuck him, let alone mate with him. Through their years of service together, Mu Qing could appreciate that Feng Xin was easy on the eyes, all muscular and hard lines. Though they matched in height, Feng Xin stood wider with a larger presence and an even louder voice. Their shouting matches carried for many li. But Feng Xin wouldn’t agree to help him. Mu Qing decided on a different course of action, one that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could see no other, less inherently distasteful way out of the situation.

Mu Qing retired to his room, taking the back passages and stairways,and bolted the door behind him. He put pen to parchment and scrawled a message in ink, sealing it with a wax stamp of Xie Lian’s retinue: an important message that was to be delivered swiftly to a shady merchant inside the city’s red light district.

The night that followed was full of fitful sleep and nightmares that left Mu Qing gasping for air when he shook himself awake. As the morning finally came, he found a stickiness on his stomach and cursed. His heat drawing closer left his skin damp with sweat, even after scrubbing himself red-raw in a bath of scalding water. He towelled his hair dry and glanced down at the burgeoning hardness between his legs. Mu Qing knew enough of the world to know how an omega’s heat worked, how it left them needing release over and over again, only satisfied by an alpha or suffering for days until it wore off.

He took himself in hand, pulled his pleasure and hoped it would suffice until his return. After, the wardrobe doors suffered his anger, slung open and slammed shut as he dressed. The sooner he left, the sooner he’d get back and lock himself away. 

Later, outside the door, firmly in the shadows, a discrete package wrapped in brown paper lay in waiting. He tossed it onto the bed.

Once again at the desk, he wrote another short message:

Feng Xin,

I have an important matter to discuss with you.
It cannot be spoken of in front of prying ears, and eyes – especially not Dianxia.
Meet me tonight at the inn marked on the enclosed map after the sun has gone down.
Come alone, I have baijiu.

Don’t be late,
Mu Qing

He reread it. This wouldn't arouse too much suspicion…right? They’d known each other long enough to have a thread of trust between them. Certainly not friends, but begrudging colleagues.

An omega’s smell prior to a heat was sweet and heady, or so the books had told him. Not yet irresistible but eye turning for any alpha in the vicinity. After mating, it was dampened by the alpha’s scent, a protective cloak and soft hug at the same time - an intertwined omega’s scent was marked off limits to everyone but their partner.

The rest of the day was a blur, fumbled release under the covers and sweat brushed from his brow only to return minutes later. It was far from satisfying and only made the itch of his skin worse. Fortunately, Mu Qing’s length was not in a state of constant arousal, and for that he thanked the Gods. After cursing them for making him an omega to begin with.

As dusk settled, warm and heavy, he took his final bath in scalding water with soap intended to neutralise his scent. He rushed to make himself presentable, not a hair out of place nor a wrinkle in his robes.

Hello?” 

And, so predictably, the first indication of Feng Xin's arrival was his booming voice. A final glance in the mirror displayed a very normal reflection, no shine of sweat nor, thankfully, any sign of activity in his nether region; even though internally he felt trapped with the need to pull his clothes off and take his pleasure again.

“You're late. What are you shouting for? There is no one else here, though with how loud you are, the long departed might awaken to haunt you.” Mu Qing replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. He looked down from the top of the stairs, one hand planted on the bannister to subtly steady himself. 

Feng Xin huffed, folded his arms and stared up at him with reproach. “I thought you'd been captured or something. I hope you have a good reason for dragging me here, my deputies will slack off without me.”

Mu Qing’s hand hovered above the rail as he descended the stairs, trying to ignore the stickiness of the floor, and closed the gap between them. Up close, the guard really was handsome: sun-kissed skin, long lashes he wanted to brush his fingers against, and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. Perhaps in another lifetime they could have been something more. But then he reasoned it was his heat-addled mind pulling such thoughts and dismissed the notion entirely. He’d come wearing armour, which complicated things a little. No matter.

“I do have good reason. Let’s discuss it over the baijiu.” He shook the small bottle between long digits, the potent liquid sloshing. 

“I'm not against joining you for a drink.” Feng Xin looked around the inn; deprived of any custom, it looked dilapidated and not Mu Qing’s usual fare. “It must be serious if you lower your pride to show your face in such a…homely place.”

“Shut up you lout. Sit down.”  

If Feng Xin thought the situation was strange, he said nothing. He sat at the table closest to the door and stared intensely at him. 

“So, why have you dragged me here?” he mumbled. “If not a disguised call for help, this better be worth my time.”

Guilt stabbed him in the gut. It was a trap. Of sorts, though none that Feng Xin would ever expect. He had to, for the sake of his future. Mu Qing just needed to make sure he drank first. Then he’d be free of all this omega nonsense. For good.

“Why would I waste my time dragging you to this wasteland? Let me pour, then I’ll tell you what I wish to discuss.”

Mu Qing swanned over to the well-worn bar running the length of one wall, leaned across and plucked two tiny goblets from a stack. With his back to Feng Xin,he unstoppered the vial and tipped the clear liquid into the cup intended for the guard. He made more of a show pouring the baijiu into both glasses. The laced cup smelled a little off, but not enough for Feng Xin to notice.

He placed the cup in front of Feng Xin a little too heavy handed, spilling a few drops. The itch to his skin returned, the warm flush to his cheeks. The effect of the soap was wearing off; he needed to hurry. He raised his glass. “Ganbei.”

Feng Xin shot him a weird look. The glass looked tiny in his large, strong fingers. Mu Qing pondered how they’d feel against his body, sliding up toned legs, across parted thighs to take hold of his co–

THE FUCK IS THIS, MU QING!?

Mu Qing jumped. His heart stopped. The glass between Feng Xin’s fingers was at his nose, with a face of thunder and piercing brown eyes. Chair legs scraped the floor. Feng Xin closed the distance between them in a flash and grabbed at the collar of Mu Qing’s robe, his entire presence intense.

“...Baijiu?” Mu Qing murmured, panic growing in the pit of the stomach but mind numbing under Feng Xin’s scent.

BULLSHIT. I know an aphrodisiac when I smell it. I swear to God, you better have a good fucking reason to be drugging me. I knew you were trouble the moment Dianxia dragged you in from whatever hovel you were born in…” 

Feng Xin stormed towards the door.

Mu Qing couldn’t return to the pathetic village he’d grown up in. He’d worked so hard, for so many years under the Prince of Xianle and toiled tirelessly to cultivate into the early hours of the morning when all the work was finished. He couldn’t let down his family, couldn’t disgrace their memory. He’d already wasted their last years away from home, and all of it for nothing. He panicked.

“W-wait, let me explain–”

Feng Xin paused, his hand against the door, about to push. 

Please.”

“You have five seconds. Five…”

Five seconds and his life would be over, everything that he’d worked himself to the bone for.

“...four…”

Maybe telling the truth would be better, there was nothing to lose at this point. 

“...three…”

“I’m–”

“..two…”

I’m an omega!

The counting stopped, his hand dropped from the door, and an awkward silence remained.

What!?” Feng Xin’s voice echoed across the room.

Shut up,” Mu Qing hissed, though the inn was empty. He groaned, sinking into the nearest seat and pressing his thumb and pointer finger into closed eyes. He heard Feng Xin stomp across the room and the thump of him sitting back down in the seat opposite. Silence fell between them for a few long minutes.

“...I won’t tell Dianxia. At least for now. In return, you will tell me why you slipped an aphrodisiac into the baijiu.”

Mu Qing opened his eyes and stared at Feng Xin. He looked angry but was clearly awaiting an explanation. The chance to explain, this moment of kindness came as a surprise. Dianxia was Feng Xin’s closest friend. He was sure they told each other everything. He sighed. “How much do you know about an omega’s life?”

Feng Xin shrugged. “I’ve not thought about it, so not much, I suppose.” 

Mu Qing rested his elbows on the table and steepled his hands in thought. “I presented last week. The Council found out and gave me an ultimatum. Either I left the palace within twelve hours, or…”

“Hold on. Why would being an omega mean that you need to leave?” His voice was more level, his indoor voice, though it sounded strange.

“Well… an unmated omega in heat can draw too much attention from unmated alphas. It can cause infighting and worse... It’s natural that there can be none in the Royal Family’s service.” Even speaking the words brought bile to the back of his throat. Mu Qing could understand the rationale behind the decision for him to be mated or removed, but it still infuriated him. All his hard work and loyal service for half a decade, meaningless. He glanced at Feng Xin and was surprised to see an expression of disgust.

“...I had no idea. As annoying as you are, no one could doubt your loyalty to Dianxia.” Mu Qing let the jab slide, balanced with the compliment for the work he took pride in. “But that doesn’t explain the drug.” 

“...that was related to the second option.”

“Go on.”

“As I explained, only an unmated omega is an issue. A mated one can remain.” As Feng Xin’s face flushed, he could feel his own cheeks grow warm. “They told me that if I mated you, I would be allowed to stay.”

He didn’t reply, a fist slammed the table and Feng Xin sighed. “You’re a fucking idiot… Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Y-you hate me! You try asking someone who hates you for something so…permanent.”

“The fuck are you talking about? You’re annoying as sin and thick as shit for buying that potion from god knows where, but I don’t hate you. I never have.” Feng Xin awkwardly scratched his face. “I’ll do it. If you still want.”

Mu Qing froze. “...”

Neither of them broke the silence, only stared at each other, faces alight. Mu Qing’s gaze darted between the points of his armour, where arms bulged with muscle and further below that held a noticeable mound. Still handsome. He could deal with fucking someone that looked like Feng Xin; he just needed to stay silent and keep that loud mouth shut. The itch between his legs returned, turning them to jelly and leaving Mu Qing to grab the edge of the table. His heat edged ever closer.

“...Fine.”

Feng Xin looked around the room, sniffed the air and scratched his head.

“My first heat is about to begin. There will be little time for discussion, so let’s do that now.”

Briefly, the two discussed logistics and what was off limits. Or rather, Feng Xin spoke of it, Mu Qing had no prior experience and little self-exploration. He hid his face in his hands more times than he cared to count from sheer embarrassment of talking about his designation to the loud-mouthed guard. They’d never had a conversation that didn’t end in shouting, let alone sharing bed preferences.

Having agreed to meet in two incenses’ time, Mu Qing returned to his room to prepare himself, body and mind. Another scalding bath did little to dampen the need between his legs, fully hard and aching against his stomach. He blamed his heat—it definitely wasn’t the thought of the man in the next room. He scrubbed at his skin until it was red. He reluctantly dried and threw on plain, white cotton sleeping robes tied loosely at his waist.

A knock at the door took Mu Qing by surprise. He stumbled and pulled the door open. Feng Xin, despite everything, seemed wider without the armour covering his muscular body and the robe barely covering his chest, a teasing window showing hard lines in all the right places. Feng Xin stared right back at him.

Mu Qing stepped aside to let him in. “For once, you are silent. Come in.” 

There was little else to say. Mu Qing shut and locked the door before turning back. Feng Xin cupped his cheek, the rough surface of his thumb brushing against the flushed skin. Mu Qing followed Feng Xin’s touch, chasing the warmth of his palm and turning to meet the press of a mouth against his. It was light, their lips dry with nerves and tension. It lasted little more than a beat before they parted. There was nothing pleasurable about it. He wondered if sex was going to be just as anticlimactic. 

“...Let’s get started,” Feng Xin announced, turning away from Mu Qing. 

He couldn’t help but stare at Feng Xin’s back, muscles flexed with the movement of untying his robe. He had the strange urge to press a kiss between his shoulder blades, pressing their bodies chest to back. The sound of cloth hitting the floor pulled Mu Qing from his daydream. 

Alphas were generally taller and built stronger than omegas, though Mu Qing needed no protection from him. Feng Xin was built like a god, pert in all the right places. His gaze was transfixed, skimming the length of the his body and catching at his backside. He wondered if Feng Xin’s cock matched the size of his body. When he turned, those suspicions were confirmed: even flaccid, his length was sizable, sat in a nest of coarse, brown hair. Mu Qing couldn’t help but stare, wondering just how it was going to fit.

“Enjoying the view?” Feng Xin purred with one corner of his lips tugged into a smirk, preening at the attention. 

“Hmph,” Mu Qing denied, even as he felt himself rousing down below. 

“Are you going to remove your clothes then or not?”

The sooner he mated Feng Xin, the quicker it would be done and the quicker he could return to his previous life and no one would need to know what transpired between them. It would be a secret they’d take to the grave. If anyone asked, Mu Qing would just give a false name of some alpha that left the city after an intense summer fling. That would be enough, for him at least. He couldn't speak for Feng Xin; taking away his opportunity to mate with someone else, someone he'd consider taking as a life partner. A pang of guilt flooded him.

He sat on the bed, letting the robe slip off his shoulders to pool at his elbows, showing the length of his chest and stomach. He knew that he had a good physique, tall, slim and toned muscles; but compared to Feng Xin, he felt inadequate. Feng Xin's gaze seemed to be stuck on him, caught between his chest and lips.

“Can I touch you?” Feng Xin asked cautiously.

“Well, that is how this works.” 

Sarcasm was the only defence that Mu Qing had. Feng Xin ignored the biting remark and moved to stand in front of him, giving him an eyeful of his member. He was unable to look away. Feng Xin leaned in and pressed a warm hand against his stomach, Mu Qing jolted at the touch – he could barely resist the urge to push him away – and froze, eyes wide.

“All good?” Feng Xin was so close, his breath fresh—he’d prepared for this. It sparked a belated realisation: Feng Xin wanted him to stay. The knowledge sparked something new, and suddenly Mu Qing was glad to still be wearing robes to cover his own length.

Mu Qing nodded, unable to find the words to ask for more.

Feng Xin moved closer, one leg tucked on the bed next to his bare thigh and the other foot planted firmly on the floor. His length hung free, still distinctly flaccid. He traced the muscle under his touch then slid up to his chest. Feng Xin's fingertips skirted around his nipple and Mu Qing gasped. He’d never touched himself there before, perfunctory passes in the bath excluded. Feng Xin took the noise as encouragement and rolled the bud between careful digits.

“More…” Mu Qing whined, his chest heaving with panting breaths. His heat was drawing in full-force; he was too hot, even with only a towelling robe about his legs. He tugged it away from his body with one hand and threw it to the floor. The other hand slipped to Feng Xin's shoulder and pulled

Feng Xin yielded to the demand and slipped an arm around his back, replacing exploring fingers with his mouth to press a soft kiss against his budding nipple. Mu Qing squirmed and whined, the wetness a shock but not unpleasant. The suction that followed stole his breath away. His chest arched into the touch, seeking more, fingers tangled into bound hair, desperate to keep him in place at his breast.  

“Say my name.” 

“W-why would I do that?” Mu Qing stuttered, trying – and failing – to hide the arousal that seeped into his voice. Even sitting, his legs felt like jelly and the urge to bare his neck, and the gland that would see him tamed, was almost impossible to resist.

Please say it?” 

And Mu Qing could resist the urge no longer, turning his head to present the length of his neck. When he looked down, he froze. The change of position revealed that Feng Xin was aroused, his cock fully hard and pressed against his thigh. Mu Qing whined, a needy sound from the back of his throat. A rapid dampness grew between his legs, indicating the true beginning of his heat.

Well?” Like a man starving, Feng Xin buried his face into Mu Qing’s neck and ran his nose down its length. He focussed his attention at the gland and sucked at the skin until it purpled. 

“Ah—Feng Xin—ah...” Mu Qing moaned, tilting his chin upward. Feng Xin smiled against his neck. Mu Qing didn’t know what he needed, but it felt pleasurable in the moment. “Ah—kiss me again.”

Feng Xin pulled away from Mu Qing’s neck, traced his fingers over his jawline, and turned his face. He was so clearly affected by Mu Qing's heat, with flushed cheeks and dilated eyes, and those lips. The ones that caused so much hassle, the ones that spoke so loudly that Mu Qing nearly went deaf every time he spoke. The ones that so expertly sucked at his skin and left him wanting more. “Are you sure? That first one was shite. No offence.”

Mu Wing frowned, the moment broken, even if it wasn’t a lie. “Do you ever shut up?” He bit back through the haze in his brain. “Even when we’re naked, you–” 

The sentence got stuck in his throat when Feng Xin leaned in, their eyes locked together. Mu Qing couldn’t look away. His heart skipped a beat, and his eyes fluttered closed as Feng Xin closed the gap. His lips were still moist from kissing his chest. It started again as soft, innocent exploration. It was warm. Better than the first kiss. Addictive.

“Feng Xin—ah,” Mu Qing moaned as they reluctantly parted to breathe. He flung his arms around Feng Xin’s neck, preventing him from moving away. “Don't leave—how is such a loud mouth so talented—”

Feng Xin moaned. “You are impossible.”

The next kiss stole his words. Like a man starving, Feng Xin demanded his lips open to allow his tongue entry. The kiss was heated, needy, and very wet. Mu Qing surrendered to it.

“I am not impossible-” Mu Qing hissed. Feng Xin darted forward for another kiss and met him in the middle. In the fight for dominance in their kissing, Mu Qing knew he would never win. “-you’re just a lout.”

“You call me a lout and yet here you are, aroused by me,” Feng Xin complained between kisses before Mu Qing stole another. In a rush of arms and grunts, Feng Xin manhandled him onto the bed, onto his back, and pinned between two strong legs.

“And so-” Mouths pressed together in urgency. “-are you.” Mu Qing tangled his fingers into the hair that framed Feng Xin’s face. And, to satisfy years of curiosity, he tugged away the yellow ribbon that held his bun together and let it fall to the floor. Feng Xin's hair tumbled over his shoulders, stopping midway down his back with a kink throughout.

Feng Xin paused, hovering above him. The sight took Mu Qing's breath away; wheat-coloured skin shone with the efforts of their attentions so far, cock erect and hanging free, hair wild and eyes locked onto his. “So?” he challenged.

Mu Qing didn’t have an answer for that. He had to admit defeat and averted his gaze to lock onto Feng Xin’s hair instead. “...I didn’t realise it was so long.” Trembling fingers–from need or nerves, Mu Qing didn’t know–tangled into the soft, brown strands and buried them until massaging fingertips touched his scalp. “...It’s nice this long. It suits you.”  

Feng Xin took a sharp intake of breath. “...Thank you.” He was surprised by the compliment. Mu Qing supposed that was understandable and the heat was making his mouth run, or so he chose to believe. He drew back, pulling fingers away. They caught in the tight strands and tugged. “Sor-” 

Feng Xin moaned. It was of arousal, from the painful tugging at his hair. It threw Mu Qing for a loop, his mind suddenly racing with wild visions: his arms tied behind his back, legs tied together, his entire body tied tightly in a neat bow ready for unwrapping and he wanted to explore it, push him to the edge and off.

Mu Qing smirked and teased, “Oh, how interesting…”

Feng Xin flushed and frowned. With a growl, he pounced on him, slotting mouths together in another wild kiss, tongues fighting for dominance and fingers spreading across bare skin.

Feng Xin pushed him into the mattress, ,chest to chest, hip to hip and lengths pressed together. His arousal, clearly in proportion with the rest of him, was sure to split him in two. The logical part of Mu Qing’s brain screamed that it would be painful; the needy side wanted to be filled, and claimed, and mated.

“This isn’t about me,” Feng Xin growled, and nipped the skin at the juncture between neck and shoulder. Mu Qing quivered at the shiver sent down his spine, the bite was close to the sensitive spot at the nape of his neck, but not close enough. 

“Then hurry up.”

Feng Xin slipped off the bed and rested a splayed hand on Mu Qing’s chest. His palm wandered over Mu Qing’s stomach, and took him in hand. He clenched his jaw, threatening to spill at the first touch to his cock; Feng Xin would never let him live that down. Mu Qing had never thought about laying with another, even ignoring the fact that his cultivation path didn’t allow it. There was never enough time to even consider it. 

“If you want me to hurry up then we need to make sure you’re ready.” Feng Xin flashed him an irresistible grin.

“Get to work then,” he replied haughtily, pushing out his bottom lip and parting his thighs. Feng Xin must have had lovers before, Mu Qing surmised, but the way he froze at seeing his entrance had him wondering if the guard had never been with a man. “It’s not going to prepare itself, Feng Xin.” He huffed impatiently. 

Feng Xin hummed. He let go of his cock and slipped his hand under to part his cheeks, pressing two fingers against his hole. An omega in heat could self-lubricate; a smooth entry made easy. Mu Qing gasped.

“I haven’t even entered yet. Are you that desperate for my cock, Mu Qing?” 

He would never admit it. Feng Xin didn’t need an answer. The first finger entered easily enough; in fact, Mu Qing didn’t really feel it. His passage had to stretch a little for the second, but still didn't hurt. His digits explored his passage, in and out, searching.

“What are you-” When Feng Xin's fingers brushed a certain spot, Mu Qing gasped, arching his back to an elegant curve. A rush of pleasure surged through his body and he moaned, unable to contain himself. “Fuck…What is that?” 

“...You’ve never explored yourself? Never experimented while taking your pleasure?”

Mu Qing flushed. “My cultivation, you dolt. I’d lose it…” He trailed off, meeting a fixated stare, and his flush deepened. “You’ll have to take responsibility for rebuilding it.”

Feng Xin hummed in agreement. The third finger was a stretch, though the rhythmic stroking eased the discomfort. A moan bubbled in My Qing's throat at each press. Tired of the foreplay, wanting to be fucked and wanting his task to be done, Mu Qing snatched at Feng Xin’s wrist, stopping him mid-stroke. “Enough. I’m ready. Let's get this done.”

“Are you sure? I'm not small. I don’t want to hurt you.” Feng Xin paused inside, his voice was laced with concern. It was sweet in its own, unexpected way. Perhaps he’d misjudged the big, dumb guard after all. Or maybe it was just his heat talking.

“Feng Xin, it will be fine. Stop treating me like I'm weak and fragile. Claim me so we can both be done with this insanity and go back to normal.” 

Feng Xin huffed, withdrew his fingers–Mu Qing whined high in his throat, at the loss–and moved to kneel between his parted legs. “How do you want it?”

Mu Qing had not thought that far ahead. He supposed there were multiple ways for men to have sex, but hadn't considered the logistics. The most obvious choice would be facing away from Feng Xin. He could pretend to be with someone else, but who else would he imagine? Feng Xin and Dianxia were the only two men he knew more than acquaintances, and Dianxia was off-limits. Feng Xin was his rival, but… “Even your face is better viewing than a grimy inn room.”

“Stop talking bullshit and tell me what you want, Mu Qing. I want you to be comfortable with this.” 

Stupid Feng Xin and trying to be honourable. Mu Qing supposed he owed a clear answer after agreeing to such a commitment. He drew his gaze up to Feng Xin’s. “I’ll face you. I assume…I assume you’re not new to this,” he waved his hand vaguely at his crotch, “you can guide me.”

“I’ve never lain with a man. You’re the first.”

Mu Qing turned his head to hide his flushed cheeks. “Likewise.” To distract his racing heart, Mu Qing tugged the pillow from under his head, raised his hips and slid it under. He wrapped his legs around Feng Xin’s waist and pulled. The guard fell onto one elbow. Their needy lengths pressed together and their faces hovered close, barely an inch between them. Mu Qing closed his eyes. The kiss that followed lacked the heat of the last one, it was light and reassuring. Whilst annoying as sin, Feng Xin was honourable to a fault; he’d be gentle. 

Feng Xin slipped his hand between their bodies and took himself in hand. “Ready?” he asked, looking down at Mu Qing through long lashes.

Mu Qing nodded. The first push inside stole his breath, stretching him to the limit, pain mixed with pleasure. His fingernails dug into Feng Xin’s back to leave bloody scratch marks against the sun-worn skin.

Fuck,” Feng Xin cursed as he buried himself to the hilt. “You were made for me, hmm? So tight.” The words were too sinful to be coming out of even his mouth. Mu Qing flushed at the compliment and some small part of him preened. Feng Xin was gracious enough to allow him time to adjust to his size, pressing open mouthed kisses up the length of his neck and sucking bruises under his tongue. 

“You can move,” Mu Qing moaned.

Feng Xin experimentally pulled out and thrust back in. Mu Qing gasped when he hit the sensitive spot inside. It wouldn’t last long, his heat called for release, to be filled and claimed. The gentle thrusts swiftly turned into fast, frantic movements that pushed Mu Qing further up the bed; Feng Xin fucked into him with reckless abandon.

“I-I’m—ah—not going to last—ah—long.” Mu Qing confessed, chest heaving and panting. His restraint was down to the last thread and about to snap. Teeth clenched, back arched, fingers digging into the sheets, moaning at each thrust, wishing it deeper. “Feng Xin—ah—Feng Xin—ahfuck.” 

“Come for me, Mu Qing,” he growled, eyes flashing gold. Damp strands of hair framed his face, one hand braced next to Mu Qing’s head and the other holding his thigh tightly enough to leave bruises.

“B-bite me! P-please!” Mu Qing begged.

“This is forever. You'll get fed up with me!” he exclaimed, voice alarmed and strained, his nostrils flaring. “Is that the heat talking?” Even through his concern, the bed continued to rock with the rhythm of their love-making.

“Feng Xin—ah—no,no it’s me talking. Be my alpha, please. I’m here and it’s me. Please.” He drew his hand to cup Feng Xin’s cheek, hissing at a particularly hard thrust.

Feng Xin’s wild eyes relaxed. He nodded and let himself drop, burying his face into Mu Qing’s neck. His voice came muffled. “Let’s finish this then, Omega.” Mu Qing turned his face away to bare his neck, making the scent gland easier to find. He shivered under the sharp teeth scraping the sensitive skin of his gland, shivered under a kiss, shivered as his lips left and cried out in intense pain when sharp teeth pierced the skin. The world seemed to move; everything clicked into place and then all was calm. To be mated was to be claimed, body and soul. The musky smell of the inn was replaced by the comforting blanket of Feng Xin’s scent.

The pain at his neck, the pleasure of being fucked and Mu Qing fell into oblivion with his lover’s name on his lips. He trembled under Feng Xin and spilled onto his stomach. It was enough to send Feng Xin to his pleasure moaning his name; his length pulsed in release. When it ceased he fell atop Mu Qing, exhausted.

The cooldown was quiet, comfortable. They didn’t talk but intertwined fingers and listened to the sound of the rushing rivers out the window. Until the urge to have each other again became too unbearable, then legs and limbs tangled and fingers and tongues explored new places. Silence shifted to swears, whispered sweet nothings and shouts of release; all night long the pattern repeated until the next day dawned. 

Mu Qing was the first to wake from fitful sleep. His neck itched and back ached; he’d fallen asleep with his head on Feng Xin’s chest. His chest rose and fell, sleeping contently with an arm wrapped around Mu Qing’s waist.

He woke the instant Mu Qing moved to slide out from under his grip. “Qing’er…?” he mumbled.

Mu Qing froze. “What did you call me?”

Feng Xin’s expression hardened. “My apologies, Mu Qing. Are you alright?” He looked rather like a kicked puppy, downtrodden expression, hair tumbling over his shoulders. If Feng Xin had a tail, it would be between his legs. The night had been acceptable, nothing unwanted; Feng Xin had been quite the gentleman, checking in with him regularly. Perhaps…

“Do you regret it?”

“H-huh?” He spluttered, pulled from his reverie.

“Do you regret it? You’ve not answered if you’re okay, nor spoken at all. If there’s something I can do-” A finger to his mouth stopped the babbling. 

“I do not regret it. However, you are far too early to call me that.” He flushed, pouting. “Stop being a loudmouthed idiot, and sit down and talk to me. Talk. Not shout, not bark. Talk. With me.” 

Feng Xin’s wide grin was brighter than the sun.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes.